


but even the hardest of hearts unhardened

by butwewillstay



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Courtship, F/M, Falling In Love, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butwewillstay/pseuds/butwewillstay
Summary: "As he watches her walk away, Hades feels something soft and warm and distinctly alive fluttering in his chest. It has been so long since he has felt anything like this, and he is resoundingly terrified of it."The Lord of Death and the Lady of Life fall in love.Or, a retelling of the abduction myth, with significantly less abduction.-- Currently On Hiatus --
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Hadestown), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although this does contain some references to the musical Hadestown, it can be read simply as a retelling of the Greek myth. 
> 
> [Content warnings: mentions of niece/uncle incest, older man-younger woman] 
> 
> Title is a lyric from the song "Epic III" from Hadestown at the New York Theatre Workshop
> 
> There are notes on greek mythology at the end, if you need them.

After so long in the darkness of the Underworld, stepping into the mortal realm is an experience akin to being run over by Helios’ chariot. Hades sighs, and raises a hand to shield his eyes from the obscenely bright orb in the sky. 

He takes a moment to let his eyes adjust, and resolves to leave as soon as he can, after he has finished his job. Because after all, he has a duty to do — whether he likes it or not. 

He can sense the boy he has come for as he whimpers in the back of Hades’ mind.  _ Help, it’s cold _ , the young voice says, and Hades begins to walk across the too-bright field toward the mortal.

It is rare for him to collect souls himself, but since Hermes is otherwise occupied (no doubt with some mortal man or woman) it is up to Hades to bring this shade to the Underworld, lest it suffer needlessly until Hermes is ready to do his job. And while Hades may be stern, he is not unkind; and he does not enjoy condemning mortals to pain. 

Finding the boy is not difficult. His shade sits next to his lifeless body, his arms hugging his legs tight to his chest. His eyes widen in fear as Hades approaches.

“No! Ευσπλαχνία, please! I don’t want to die!” The boy cries, and Hades does not bother to explain that the boy is  _ already _ dead, and even if he wanted to, he could not spare him — he may be the king of the Underworld, but it is not up to him to determine when death comes. 

“It’s time, child,” Hades responds, in an attempt to comfort the terrified soul. The boy only shakes his head desperately, and scrambles away from the god. Hades has little patience, especially for those who do not accept their end. 

He stalks forward, and places his hands on the shade’s shoulders, ignoring the boy’s feeble protests. After a moment of concentration, the boy disappears as Hades sends him to the bank of the River Styx. Charon will deal with him. 

He straightens up again, and sighs. He is not fond of the mortal world and all the complications that come with interacting with the living, and he yearns to return to the calm solitude of his own realm. Of course, other beings dwell there, but he is generally left alone. The shades know their place, and the other immortals have their own business to attend to. 

He walks back the way he came, and thinks about how he is going to make up for the lost time he has spent reaping this soul. It did not take long, but there are always thousands of souls awaiting judgement. He frowns, and makes a mental note to have a strong word with Hermes about doing his job correctly. 

He is so distracted by his thoughts (how to speed up the efficiency of the Underworld?) that he does not notice he has gotten himself lost until he has already wandered far into a lush garden that contrasts greatly with the orderly fields surrounding it. 

He doesn’t see her, not at first. 

When he does, he does not recognize her immediately. She is kneeling on the ground on the other side of a clearing, and he can hear the lilt of her voice as she whispers something he cannot make out. It takes him a moment to realize she is talking to a small purple flower in front of her. 

As though she can sense his presence (and for all he knows, she might be able to), she stands and faces him, wiping the dirt from her hands onto her chiton. As she turns, he is finally able to remember her. 

Persephone, a daughter of Demeter. He met her on one of his rare trips to Olympus, at a party thrown by Zeus and Hera to celebrate the birth of Ares. Demeter had hesitantly introduced Hades to her young daughter, and Hades got the feeling that she expected him to steal her child away if he was left alone with her. He couldn’t blame her, with the way that Demeter had been treated by his brother. Zeus was very reluctant to acknowledge his illegitimate children, and he had all but ignored Persephone after she was born. 

He remembers her, waving playfully at him as she clung to her mother’s skirts. He had seen her later in the evening, running around Zeus’ temple with her half-siblings as he drank ambrosia wine with Dionysus and Hecate, who were some of the only members of his family he could stand to talk to for more than a few moments at a time (or, the only ones who would actually talk to him). 

He has not seen her since she was a small child, although he has heard whispers of her growth. As she walks up to him, he concludes that she is certainly no longer a child. It has been at least twenty years since that party, yet to him it feels like months. Stars, he is getting old. 

“Hello, Uncle,” She says, tilting her head and looking at him in a way he can’t quite decipher. She smiles warmly, and he can tell she is waiting for a response. 

“Hello,” He responds, and winces when it comes out as a pitiful whisper. He is the eldest Olympian, and a king — he should not be reduced to a flustered nymph  _ no matter what _ , even if he has been confronted with the first person in thousands of years that does not seem at all disturbed by his presence. Persephone smiles wider, and bounces lightly on the balls of her feet. 

“You’re different than I expected,” She states plainly, and Hades is astonished at how confidently she voices her thoughts. On Olympus, most gods prefer to speak in complex riddles that take some time to interpret (and even then, one cannot be sure of the true meaning). 

Not that he isn’t perplexed by the implications of her statement all the same. 

“You’ve been...expecting me?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. She laughs, and he gets the distinct expression that he’s managed to make a fool out of himself in less than five minutes.

“‘Course I have,” She says, as if it’s obvious. “I’ve seen almost every other god in all Olympus, figured it was only a matter of time ‘fore I met you.”

She turns away from him in one fluid motion, and he has to jerk backwards to avoid getting hit by her long hair (he had not realized she was standing  _ that _ close to him). She hums an unfamiliar tune as she walks away from him, a soft  _ la, la la la la la la.  _ It is beautiful, and he knows instantly that it has become his favorite song, despite his general disinclination regarding music. 

Halfway across the clearing, she turns and just stares at him again, smiling. 

“Come on,” She beckons. “I want to show you somethin’.” 

And despite the voice whispering in the back of his mind that he really should be getting back to the Underworld, that there are souls waiting to be judged, he steps forward and follows her. She grins again, and turns to lead him to wherever it is she’s taking him. He finds that the glare of the sun is no longer quite as unbearable as it was before.

She walks as though she is one with the Earth (and, he supposes, she kind of  _ is _ ), playful yet dignified all at once. He is the opposite of graceful, as he sometimes stumbles over the uneven terrain that he is not used to. The Underworld does not have much wilderness.

As they hike, she talks. She tells him of the work she and her mother do in the fields, and how she passes her time with Artemis and Athena, when they are not busy with their own duties. She does not pressure him to speak often, and for that he is grateful. Hades has always considered himself a quiet man. 

Finally, she stops walking, so he does too.

“Close your eyes,” She says, and although it may be a stupid thing to do for someone he barely knows, he does. He doesn’t think she would talk to him for an hour and then turn around and kill him. 

She takes his hand, and he freezes for a second. He is not used to contact with another living being. It has been...how long? Perhaps since he and his siblings were imprisoned inside their father. Persephone, as though sensing his tension, squeezes his hand gently, and he relaxes. 

She leads him for a few minutes, and giggles when he nearly trips over a stone. Eventually, she tells him to open his eyes, and he does, squinting as he once again adapts to the brightness of the sun. She does not let go of his hand.

They are in a field. A  _ beautiful _ field. He does not care much for flowers, but even he can appreciate the effort that Persephone must have put into this. There are possibly hundreds of flowers, in what seems like every color in existence. They spread as far as he can see, the only clear spots underneath majestic trees that stretch up into Zeus’ blue sky. 

“What do you think?” She asks, and he feels a little spiral of warmth in his chest. It’s comforting, and he lets his carefully developed emotional mask break into a small smile. 

“It’s quite pleasant,” He says after a moment, because he does not quite know how to express that standing in this field with this girl, he is beginning to understand why the mortals are so fond of their realm. 

She laughs, a carefree laughs that dances in the wind, and pulls him forward until they are standing underneath a magnificent weeping willow. She sits on the ground, and after casting a somewhat reproachful look at the dirt, he follows suit. It is cooler under the tree, and the sun is not as harsh in the shade. He wonders if she has chosen this spot for him, because of this. 

Hades watches as she touches the dirt and a small yellow flower sprouts from previously empty ground. She seems unimpressed with her creation, but he is fascinated. She has created life from nothing. She  _ is _ life. The opposite of him and his shadows of death. 

He is terrified, suddenly, that his mere presence will hurt her and her joyful liveliness. He should go, now, before he accidentally causes any harm. But he looks at her, and she smiles and he feels  _ warm  _ and _calm_ , and he thinks that it might not hurt to stay a bit longer before returning to the cold of the Underworld.

“If you’re a king, how come you ain’t got a crown?” She asks suddenly, and he blinks at her before tearing his gaze away from her dark eyes. She is teasing him, he realizes, and he chuckles softly before answering.

“Never needed one,” He answers honestly. “Everyone in the Underworld knows who I am.”

“Must be nice,” She muses, and he doesn’t ask what she means. If she wants to tell him, she will. 

She opens her mouth again, as if to ask something else, but whatever she is about to say is cut off by another voice.

“Kore!” Even from far away, Hades still recognizes his sister’s voice. “Where are you? These crops aren’t goin’ to plant themselves, and I can’t do it all myself!” 

Demeter is nowhere near them, but Persephone stiffens, and Hades wonders how his sister would react if she found her daughter sitting less than a foot away from the Lord of Death. He would probably end up imprisoned in Tartarus. 

Persephone climbs to her feet, and Hades does as well. 

“Ma won’t like that you’re here, you know,” She says teasingly, and he scoffs, because he could have deduced that much from Demeter’s notorious unwillingness to let any man within 50 yards of her daughter unsupervised. 

She stares at him for a moment, then raises her hands and weaves a circle of yellow narcissus flowers out of thin air. She places it on top of his head, and grins.

“Now you have a crown.” She whispers softly. “See you soon, Uncle.” With that, she turns and heads toward her mother’s voice. 

As he watches her walk away, Hades feels something soft and warm and distinctly  _ alive _ fluttering in his chest. It has been so long since he has felt anything like this, and he is resoundingly terrified of it.  He does not want to put a name to this  _ thing _ , this confusing mess of feelings bundled inside of him, so instead he watches her long, curly hair sway in the wind as she leaves, and returns to his Underworld. Even though he has been gone for a few hours at most, it feels so much colder and darker than it did when he left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hades - god and king of the Underworld, and brother to Zeus, Hera, and Demeter
> 
> Ευσπλαχνία - mercy/compassion in Greek
> 
> River Styx - The river that separates the land of the living from the Underworld.
> 
> Charon - The ferryman of the Underworld, who transports newly-arrived souls across the River Styx in his boat. And much much later, the conductor of Hadestown’s train.
> 
> Narcissus flowers - Latin name for daffodils! a yellow or white flower, which can represent hope, new beginnings, and sometimes loneliness. In Greek mythology, it is often referred to as a flower that led Persephone into a trap Hades had set so he could abduct her. 
> 
> Chiton - A tunic-like garment worn by both men and women in Ancient Greece
> 
> Persephone/Kore - goddess of spring and vegetation
> 
> Demeter - Greek goddess of the harvest and agriculture, and the mother of Persephone. She is also a younger sister of Hades.
> 
> Zeus - the King of the gods, and god of the sky/lightning. He is the husband of Hera, brother of Hades, and father of Persephone.
> 
> Hera - wife of Zeus, and the goddess of marriage and birth. She is the mother of Ares (and many others)
> 
> Ares - god of war, and son of Zeus and Hera
> 
> Dionysus - greek god of wine, pleasure, and festivity. Son of Zeus and Semele (a mortal).
> 
> Hecate/Hekate - goddess of witchcraft and magic. In some myths, she is the daughter of Asteria and Perses (which would make her grandparents Titans, so she is kind of a cousin to Hades -- idk this family tree is wack)
> 
> Artemis - goddess of hunting, nature, and the moon (along with Hecate and the Titan Selene). Daughter of Zeus and Leto (a mortal). 
> 
> Athena - goddess of wisdom, courage, and law and justice. Daughter of Zeus and Metis (a Titan)
> 
> Hades’ father - Kronos/Cronus, the king of the Titans and the god of time. When he learned that he was destined to be overthrown by his children, he ate them. Eventually the Olympians, led by Zeus, did indeed overthrow their father in a war against the Titans. Cronus was then locked in Tartarus in the Underworld along with the other Titans who fought against Zeus’ army. 
> 
> Tartarus - Place where particularly bad people are tortured after death. It is also where the generation before the Olympians (the Titans) are imprisoned, with Hades as their jailor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " His heart leaps at the thought that she was thinking of him. Then he berates himself, because he needs to forget. He is here, one last time, to fulfill this awful compulsion that seems to have taken root inside his chest like one of Persephone’s twisting vines. If he does not cut it out now, it will surely choke him to death. "
> 
> feat. angst, dancing, and nighttime strolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the total number of chapters from 4 to 5, because this ended up a lot longer than I thought. Thanks to my awesome beta Stephanie, who somehow puts up with my atrocious writing from 3 am.

He does not want to have to deal with Charon and his prying questions about why he spent so long topside, so Hades takes a back route into the Underworld, one that only he knows about. He has had plenty of time to discover the secrets of his realm, after thousands of years with little else to do. 

Because of this, he does not see another soul until he enters his office, where he finds a woman lounging sideways in his chair, her feet dangling over the armrest.

“Hello, Hecate,” He says, and hopes that she will leave quickly. He is eager to meet with his judges — after all, there is always more work to be done. The goddess of witchcraft is not facing him, instead focusing on where she is lazily drawing sigils in the air with sparks. 

She sits up, turns toward him, and bursts out laughing.

“What?” He demands, and vaguely registers that this is the second time in the same day that he has felt foolish, which might be a new record for him. 

She keeps laughing, but nods at something above his head.  _ Oh.  _ He feels his cheeks flush with golden ichor when he realizes that he has not removed Persephone’s crown. He pulls it off his head, and stares at it. He isn’t quite sure what to do with it now, so he just sets it on the edge of his desk.

“Trying out a new fashion choice?” Hecate asks, her voice laced with mockery. “I didn’t think you were one for such bright colors, Hades. Have you finally found some dryad girl to spend time with?” 

He scoffs, and tries to act like he hasn’t just spent several hours frolicking around a garden and ignoring his duties. She clearly picks up on his discomfort, and arches her eyebrows.

“Ah, perhaps you have,” She says, and he hates how perceptive she is. “Don’t worry, cousin, I won’t spill your secret. Stars know you would never hear the end of it from Charon or Thanatos.” 

He nods, and is grateful that she thinks he is only fooling around with some meaningless nymph, not whatever he had involved himself in with Persephone.  _ What was he doing? _ Not much, just a conversation and some ill-advised feelings on his part. But he was sure that even the implication of  _ anything _ would be enough for Demeter to come after him with a pitchfork. Not to mention that he didn’t want to taint Persephone’s reputation on Olympus simply because she had taken pity on him for a few hours. 

He clears his throat, and decides to completely ignore the topic, as if that will make the little ripples of happiness that bubble to the top of his chest whenever he thinks of Persephone go away. 

“Why are you here, Hecate?” He asks. It is rare for her to enter his palace, even though she visits more frequently than most of his family (that isn’t particularly hard to achieve, as he doesn’t think anyone except Hermes has stepped into the Underworld in thousands of years). 

She shrugs, and stands up from his chair. 

“I haven’t seen Clotho, Lachesis or Atropos in a few days, so I came to see if they were here,” She says, and Hades rolls his eyes. 

“The Fates may reside in the Underworld, but they don’t often spend time in my office,” He says, as if that isn’t obvious to the both of them. “Why are you really here?”

“I was bored,” she says. “And I wanted to check on you. Even I can tell you’re lonely.”

Hades laughs dryly. 

“I am not _ lonely _ ,” He spits. “I—”

“Don’t get angry with me,” Hecate says, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m only trying to help.”

Hades knows she means well, but he does not appreciate his cousin implying that he is  _ weak _ . Besides, he has seen how sentimental attachment and unwise dalliances have hurt his brothers. 

“Thank you for your input, Hecate,” He says, and motions toward the door. “Now get out, I have work to do.”

She smirks, and gestures to her dimly lit surroundings.

“Maybe that νύμφη of yours could brighten this place up a bit,” She says. “Just think about it!” And with that, she is gone, magicking herself back to the mortal realm or wherever it is she spends her time when she isn’t annoying him. 

Hades runs his hand through his hair, and pointedly avoids looking at the flower crown sitting on the corner of his desk. A distracted king is not a good king. He needs to forget about the Narcissus flowers, and Hecate’s advice, and he certainly needs to forget about Persephone. 

So he does. Or tries to, at least. 

He tucks the crown into a desk drawer, and busies himself with balancing ledgers. He distracts himself from thoughts of the sun on her shoulders or the wind in her hair by venturing into the darkest pits of Tartarus and strengthening the walls of the Underworld. He judges souls. He supervises shades as they pass through the Lethe and return to the mortal world. He holds polite conversation with the Erinyes, and tries to ignore the voices of the Fates in the back of his mind. 

And it works. Until it doesn’t.

Twenty-eight days after Persephone crowned him with flowers, there is a shade standing in his court, pleading for Elysium; and the soul’s soft voice and honey-colored skin remind him a little too much of a woman in a garden somewhere up above. After the shade’s trial (in which Hades forces himself to be impartial and send her to the Asphodel Meadows) he slumps into his desk chair and drinks too much ambrosia wine. And tries to forget. 

The next day, he admits that he is not very good at forgetting.  _ Weak _ , he thinks to himself as he steps into the sunlight for the second time in a month.

_ Weak _ , he thinks again, as he watches her from just outside her garden. He takes a moment to try to convince himself that this is anything but a terrible idea, and walks over to where she is sitting near a patch of vibrant flowers. Her face lights up when she sees him, and he can’t help but smile back at her. 

“‘Bout time,” She says. “I was thinkin’ I’d have to send Hermes to bring you back up here.”

His heart leaps at the thought that she was thinking of him. Then he berates himself, because he needs to  _ forget _ . He is here, one last time, to fulfill this awful compulsion that seems to have taken root inside his chest like one of Persephone’s twisting vines. If he does not cut it out now, it will surely choke him to death. 

“Come sit with me,” She whispers gently, as if she senses the turmoil within him.

The vine twists tighter, encircling his heart, and he is powerless. So he sits rigidly next to her and watches as she tends to one of the tall, yellow flowers near them. Sunflowers, he thinks they’re called. 

“So, what brings you back up into the sunshine, Uncle?” She asks teasingly, in a way that if it were anyone but her, he might consider smiting them to set an example. 

He pauses, unsure of how to answer her. Would saying that he came to the surface only to see her frighten her? Would his honesty remind her that she is talking to a strange man she barely knows that has become far too fixated on her? Perhaps, but Persephone deserves honesty, even if she curses him back to the Underworld because of it. 

“I missed ya,” He says to the dirt, and braces himself for the awkwardness that is sure to ensue. 

But instead, he feels a warm hand cover his own where it rests on the ground.

“I missed ya too,” She says, and squeezes his hand gently. 

He does not know what to say, but the silence between them is not unpleasant, so he doesn’t mind it. After a few minutes, she removes her hand from his; and his heart sinks because he thinks she is leaving, but instead she just continues to tend to the sunflowers. 

Eventually, she finishes her work, and nonchalantly lays down on the ground. After a moment of brief contemplation, he does the same. He is surprised by how warm the Earth feels on the surface, a sharp contrast to the cold ground of his kingdom. 

They watch Helios’ chariot descend over the horizon, and once again Hades is struck by the beauty of the mortal world. It is foolish, he knows, to get attached to a realm that he cannot spend too much time in. He has duties in his own realm, and this will be the last time that he comes to visit her. 

“What’s the Underworld like?” Persephone asks after some time, bringing a sudden end to their comfortable silence. She sits up, and (to prevent feeling foolish) he does too. 

He hesitates, trying to come up with an adequate summary of his kingdom. 

“It’s the opposite of all this,” He says after a moment, gesturing to the sky and forest surrounding them. “Dark. Quiet. But beautiful.” 

She doesn’t respond at first, and he turns his head to look at her. She is staring at the sky, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

“I think I’d like to visit sometime,” She says casually, and Hades freezes. He needs to forget, and her presence in the Underworld, with her flowers and warm smiles, will certainly not help him. 

“I, uh, don’t think that would be a good idea,” He stammers ineloquently, cursing himself for allowing this woman to effortlessly topple his carefully built emotional walls. “I doubt you would enjoy it there.”

“Probably would,” She shrugs. “It sounds nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to her. This conversation is dangerous. If she came into his realm, he doesn’t know if he’d trust himself to make her leave. Plus, the Underworld is no place for her vivacious spirit. 

“Uncle?” She whispers. She is staring at him, and he wonders if his internal quandary is written across his face. 

“Yes?” He answers, and forces his thoughts to the back of his mind.

“How much time have you got to spend up here?” She asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

_ I’ll stay as long as you want me to _ , he thinks, and he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from voicing the thought aloud. 

“I suppose I can stay for a bit,” He says instead, and he feels his heart leap when her face breaks into a wide grin. Gods, he’s in trouble. Forgetting will not be as easy as he had hoped. 

She grabs his hand (he ignores her cursed vine as it squeezes his heart) and pulls him to his feet. He attempts to dust some of the dirt off of his chiton, but before he can finish she is leading him out of her garden. Hades opens his mouth to ask where she is taking him, but she shushes him, so he falls silent.

For a second he thinks she is taking him to her Ma’s house; and he panics, unsure of how he would explain himself to Demeter if she questioned why he was with her daughter.  _ That _ would be a confrontation he does not want to have at present. 

“Persephone,” He says. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see,” She interrupts, and smiles coyly at him. He relents, and does not bother to press her for an answer. 

As they walk, Persephone points out different constellations, and explains the stories of the heroes that Zeus has hung in the sky to decorate the heavens. Hades tries to listen to what she says, but he keeps getting distracted by her chocolate-colored eyes. They reflect specks of light from the moon, and he thinks he could drown in them.

Eventually they reach a mortal town, which Hades vaguely recognizes as the outskirts of Argos. It has expanded a great deal since the last time he was here (Charon had dragged him out of the Underworld to meet some Naiads, it had resulted in Hades sulking in the corner wondering how early he could leave without being rude). Although it is late, he can hear the sounds of festivities somewhere in the distance, and he has to sidestep swiftly to avoid an extremely intoxicated mortal man who does not seem to be aware of his surroundings. 

Hades is the Lord of the Dead, and hence does not generally enjoy lively celebrations, but as he turns to voice this to Persephone, her hopeful smile makes his protests die in his throat. 

“Ma said I’m not to go into the city by myself,” She says. “Pretty sure she meant to go only with  _ her,  _ but if you’re here then technically I ain’t breakin’ any rules.”

He frowns. Although he will allow himself this self-indulgent respite, he doesn’t want her to suffer her mother’s wrath because of it.

“Are you sure you should be here?” He asks, and she glares at him. 

“I ain’t a child,” She spits. “I certainly don’t need Ma’s permission to have fun.”

She’s right, and if he has learned anything about her since they met he knows that she will not back down. He shrugs, and allows her to lead him into a nearby  Kapeleia. He is immediately overwhelmed by the sounds of chattering mortals and clatter of glasses  — the thunderous noises of  _ life _ are the opposite of the Underworld’s hushed atmosphere. 

He turns to ask her how she knows of this place, because it certainly isn’t the kind of establishment that Demeter would bring her precious daughter to, but she is not standing next to him anymore. He feels a jolt of fear before spotting her leaning on the bar, presumably ordering drinks. He sighs, and navigates around the chaoticly arranged tables toward her. 

“Don’t disappear like that,” He says as soon as he can be heard by her over the din of the tavern. She raises her eyebrows at him.

“Why? Thought I ditched ya?” She asks, and drinks a bit of whatever the alcoholic beverage is that the bartender has handed her. “Don’t worry, Uncle, you’re far more interesting than anything else around here.”

He blinks, unsure of how to respond to her seemingly-offhand remarks. An electric spark dances through his heart as he considers that she  _ maybe, possibly _ , returns these unanticipated feelings of his. He reprimands himself for the thought, and tries to ignore the way the shadows from the oil lamps dance across her skin. 

She laughs playfully, and leads him to a table before handing him a glass of...something. He isn’t too familiar with mortal refreshments, so he takes a careful sip. He can’t quite place the taste, but he knows it certainly isn’t ambrosia wine. Overall, it isn’t terrible.

“It’s  κυκεών,” Persephone says. “It’s what mortals order, and I like to see what normal people’s lives are like.”

“Do you do this often?” 

“Sometimes,” She responds, and shrugs. “When I’m sick of tending to Ma’s damn wheat plants every day.”

“Is that why you have your own garden, too?” He asks, his curiosity piqued. 

“All of Ma’s land is  _ my garden _ .” She says harshly, motioning to herself. “She hardly ever does any of the work herself, just says she needs to focus on plannin’ the next harvest. It’s up to me to actually grow the crops.”

Hades raises his eyebrows, wondering how long Demeter will continue to treat her daughter like a child. Persephone is long past the age at which she should have been given official duties separate from her mother. 

“Perhaps you should appeal to your father,” He suggests, and immediately regrets it when her eyes narrow at the mention of Zeus.

“Pa’s never done a thing for me in my life,” She snaps, and downs more of her drink. A look of remorse briefly flickers across her face, likely as she remembers who she is talking to. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hades says mildly, and takes another swig of his drink (it’s growing on him, slightly). “My brother has never been one for good familial relationships.”

“Maybe I’ll just leave Ma’s farm,” Persephone muses, and stares at him again in that way that he can’t quite work out, before focusing on her drink again. He scoffs.

“You can try,” He says. “Good luck finding someplace where she won’t go after you. I think she’d follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

At his words, Persephone’s head snaps up and she grins at him. He starts to ask her why, but before he can speak she stands and downs the rest of her drink. 

“C’mon,” She says, and he stands ( _ because he’d follow her anywhere if she just kept smiling at him like that) _ . She hands a couple of drachmas to the bartender, and then she is holding his hand again and pulling him out into the street.

It has gotten darker outside, but there is still music playing nearby, and energetic mortals milling around them. For once, he doesn’t mind the disparate nature of the mortal realm to his own kingdom. He supposes that has something to do with the woman by his side. 

Persephone isn’t pulling him anymore  — instead, they walk side by side. To passerby, he imagines they look like a normal, albeit oddly matched, couple. 

_ Couple. _ He needs to stop allowing himself to think of these frivolous fantasies. They will only make it harder for him to forget. Soon, Persephone will acquire her own official role in the pantheon and marry some unimportant god or goddess, and he will return to his own realm. Perhaps he will visit her occasionally every thousand years, but they will only be friends. Nothing more. 

It doesn’t matter how much his heart aches at the thought of that future. 

He forces himself to halt this train of thought as they round a corner and are met with a conglomerate of colors and sounds. In the agora, a small band is playing a soft tune with lyres and aulos, and all around them people are dancing — swaying and stepping in time to the music, each mortal pair content in their own little bubble of the universe. 

As a matter of principle, Hades doesn’t dance. There wasn’t any occasion to as a child, and he’s never wanted to at any of Zeus’ parties as an adult. He knows how, of course — it’s impossible to avoid with the amount of aristocratic snobbishness present at Olympus. He thinks he’s only danced once, at the feast to celebrate the end of the War, when Hera had pressured him into it. It wasn’t particularly enjoyable, and he hadn’t felt the need to do it again. 

But now, watching these humans dance, he feels that senseless fluttering start up again inside of him, and when he turns to look at her, Persephone is gazing at him hopefully. She nods towards the dancers, and raises her eyebrows.

“Why not?” She says, and he can think of  _ so many _ reasons why he should politely refuse her. But he can’t quite bring himself to say no when she is staring at him like that, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly in an optimistic smile. 

So because he is  _ weak _ , he offers his hands to her, and she takes them gently. She slowly leads him into the crowd of dancers, and as he bows to formally begin their dance, he is strangely nervous.  _ Why? _ He supposes he’ll add it to the knot of emotions he has regarding Persephone that he’ll have to untangle at some point. 

She curtsies back to him, and he gingerly places a hand on her waist as she holds his left shoulder. His left hand remains clasped in her right one, as he guides them through the first dance he remembers (a sort of slow waltz that doesn’t quite fit the style of music, but he doubts either of them care).

They sway together to the music, and she laughs when he stumbles over a box step that he hasn’t done in thousands of years. He spins her, and tries to ignore the way her hair swirls around her face as she turns, or how she manages to make accompanying even his clumsy dancing look graceful. As they twirl around a mortal couple dancing nearby, Hades thinks that if he had the power to live in this moment forever, he would. 

Too soon, the song ends, and Hades and Persephone step apart. Her cheeks are flushed golden with exertion, and he imagines his are too. Without thinking, he reaches up and brushes an errant curl away from her face. Her eyes widen slightly, and he freezes.

Slowly, she reaches up and grasps his hand, which is still hovering by her ear. He holds his breath as she brings his hand to her mouth, and softly presses a kiss to his knuckles. That is when he knows he is utterly damned. Her bright flowers and vines have embedded themselves too deeply inside of him, and he knows that he will not be able to pull them out. 

“That was wonderful, Uncle,” She says softly. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” He whispers, and for once he does not care that he sounds like a lovesick dryad.

She smirks, and places her hand just above his elbow, as though he has offered her his arm. 

Persephone guides them away from the agora, and they walk in amiable silence for a bit. As they re-enter the forest, she begins to speak quietly, pointing out different types of flora, and explaining the language of flowers. He makes small remarks about the plants, although he is sure they sound foolish. She doesn’t seem to mind.

Every so often she darts off the path they are following to point out a plant that is particularly interesting, and he watches her fondly. The moonlight filters down through the branches, and the refractions of light and shadow that dance across her skin and hair make her look ethereal. She has long since abandoned the leather sandals she had been wearing for most of the evening, and instead clutches them in her hand as she skips barefoot across the grass. 

When they arrive at the field where her mother’s house is situated, they stop. Hades is silent, as he tries to think of an appropriate way to say goodbye. His churning mess of thoughts ( _ poisonous, beautiful, deadly, lovely)  _ doesn’t make it any easier to concentrate _. _

After a moment, he crouches down and rests his hands on the ground. He concentrates his power, pulling molten gold out of the dirt. With a thought, he forms it into a thin armlet, and offers it to her. She strokes it gently with her thumb before slipping it onto her upper arm with a smile. Something warm coils in his chest as he admires his handiwork on her bare skin, and he tries to ignore his thoughts as they murmur that giving her such an intimate gift may have been a bad idea. 

“It’s beautiful,” She says, and holds out her hand. In it is a vibrant red flower, which he takes from her gently. “It’s a chrysanthemum. I think it would suit you.”

“Thank you,” He says, and she smiles one last time before turning and walking inside. Hades stares after her, and carefully tucks the flower into the pocket of his cloak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judges of the Underworld - Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus. I’m not sure about actual mythology, but in this fic I’ve headcanon-ed Hades as being very involved in that judgement process (at least until he gets a little bit obsessed with building mines and factories). 
> 
> Hecate: As previously mentioned, the goddess of magic and witchcraft. I have her using sparks because in mythology, she is often depicted holding two torches. From what I can tell, Hecate’s parents were siblings of Hades’ parents (Cronus and Rhea), which would make them cousins.
> 
> Ichor - the golden blood of the gods.
> 
> Dryad - a nymph inhabiting a tree.
> 
> Thanatos - brother of Charon, and the god of death (or, more often, he was death personified) 
> 
> The Fates - Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos were goddesses that determined the destinies of mortals (and in this fic, I’ve extended that to the destinies of immortals).
> 
> Νύμφη - Greek for nymph.
> 
> Lethe - One of the rivers of the Underworld. Shades of the dead who achieved Elysium (those who were especially good) were allowed to be reborn if they wanted to, but first they were required to drink from the Lethe in order to forget their previous life. 
> 
> The Erinyes/Furies - Three goddesses of vengeance and retribution. They reside in the Underworld, so I’ve included them in the (short) list of people that Hades spends time with.
> 
> Asphodel Meadows - A place in the Underworld, where ordinary people go after death and wander for eternity. 
> 
> Elysium - The place in the Underworld where very good people go after death. Alternatively, those who achieve Elysium can choose to be reborn (if reborn souls achieve Elysium three times, they are allowed to go to the Isle of the Blessed, which is an eternal paradise) 
> 
> Helios’ chariot - In Greek mythology, Helios used a chariot to pull the sun across the sky each day. Hades and Persephone are watching the sunset :)
> 
> Constellations - They were heroes that had won the favor of the gods, so they were allowed to live in the sky forever. They were semi-divine, and sentient.
> 
> Argos - One of the oldest city-states in Ancient Greece (it became prominent in roughly 7 BCE). Honestly I have no idea where Persephone and Demeter would have lived, so I put them just outside Argos. 
> 
> Naiads - Female nymphs that presided over bodies of fresh water. 
> 
> Kapeleia - An Ancient Greek tavern/bar, at least in classical plays. Generally Ancient Greek citizens would congregate in someone’s home for drinking parties, but it was usually only upper-class males, so I’ve taken some creative liberties for the purposes of this fic. 
> 
> The dancing/live music - Frankly I have no idea what the history of dance is in Ancient Greece, and the Greek music from this time period that I’ve heard doesn’t seem very well-suited to the Hadestown-style dance I wanted to include. So, I imagined the songs as something similar to the music from Hades and Persephone’s dance after “Epic III” (that music isn’t named in the Broadway version, but in the original it was called “Lovers’ Desire”).
> 
> Ambrosia wine - The drink of the gods.
> 
> Κυκεών/Kykeon - An alcoholic beverage from Ancient Greece, which some sources describe as a combination of water, barley, wine, and other naturally occurring substances.
> 
> Drachmas - Greek currency, used during Ancient times.
> 
> Agora - A central public space in Greek city-states, much like a modern town square or park (kind of?). Again, I’m 100% confident that the dancing scene wouldn’t have happened, but I think I’ve abandoned any semblance of historical accuracy at this point.
> 
> Lyres/Aulos - Ancient Greek instruments. A lyre is a stringed instrument, and an aulos is a double-reed instrument. 
> 
> Poisonous, beautiful, deadly, lovely - Lyrics from “His Kiss, The Riot” from Hadestown
> 
> The Armlet/Armband - A form of jewelry consisting of a band of metal worn around the bicep/upper arm. I’ve noticed that in many photos/performances, Amber Gray (who plays Persephone) wears a thin armlet on her left arm. I’m not sure exactly why she wears it, but I thought it would be fun to incorporate it into this fic. 
> 
> Chrysanthemum - A red chrysanthemum is a symbol of love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the time it's taken me to continue this! I took a bit of a break from the fandom, but I'm back and I'll try to finish the last two chapters as soon as I can.

Because he is a fool, Hades swears that he won’t visit her again. He tucks Persephone’s flower into his desk drawer next to the flower crown, and pointedly ignores the three voices whispering in his mind. 

But he has not grown any less weak since the last time he promised himself that, and he still sees her reflected against the backs of his eyelids when he closes them, skipping through a forest under the moonlight. She haunts him over the next couple weeks as he rules, despite his attempts to throw himself completely into his work. Every time he manages to forget about her, he is reminded of her by one thing or another; or thinks of something that he thinks she would find amusing, but cannot tell her.

Occasionally he walks along the Phlegethon, to try to clear his mind, but the Asphodel flowers blooming along the northern bank only make him think of her and her garden. This is dangerous, and he knows it. What can come of it? Nothing more than a fling, he’s sure, and she deserves better than clandestine trysts. She deserves  _ so much _ more. She deserves a courtship to rival that of Hera or Amphitrite. 

Hades feels as though Moros is looming over him, guiding him down and down and down to his inevitable doom. He still feels the phantom touch of Persephone’s lips on his knuckles, as though she’s branded him with her kiss. 

In the thousands of years that he’s ruled the Underworld, he’s been a pragmatist. He doesn’t take risks, and he makes sure he knows exactly how things will turn out before he starts. Even during the war, he’d been a strategist, planning and calculating. He can’t come up with a strategy for these  _ feelings _ .

Fifty-two days after his last visit to the Overworld, he is interrupted during his contemplative walk along the river.

“Uncle!” A voice calls out from behind him, and for a hopeful moment, he stupidly thinks it’s her until he realizes that this voice is too adolescent and too masculine. He turns, and Hermes is bounding toward him, leaving crushed flowers in his wake. 

“Nephew,” He greets, and waits for the boy to explain his presence. The Herald of the Gods stops a few feet away and waves a slip of parchment in Hades’ direction. 

“Message from Zeus Olympios,” He says, a little out of breath from running. “Invitation to a gathering.”

Hades raises an eyebrow.

“What’s it for?” He asks, and Hermes shrugs. 

“Pretty sure Pa stopped comin’ up with real reasons to throw parties a few centuries ago,” He says, and hands the invitation to Hades. He contemplates throwing it into the river, because he has no reason to suffer through watching his brother attempt to seduce every woman in the room; but then he pauses.

“Who else is attending?” He asks, trying to mask any trace of hope in his voice.

Hermes shrugs again and glances nervously towards the shades wandering closer to him. He’s unsettled by the Underworld, like most other living beings. Hades glances at the wraiths, and they skitter away from the gods under his gaze. 

“Not sure who’s comin’ exactly,” Hermes says. “But I gave letters to you, Aunt Hestia, Lord Poseidon, Auntie Demeter —” 

He continues listing members of their extended family, but Hades stops listening.  _ She _ might be there. Hades knows he should politely beg off attending, and cite his responsibilities in his kingdom, but he doesn’t quite have the willpower.

After a minute, Hermes stops speaking, and Hades nods.

“That will be all,” He says. “Thank you.”

Hermes makes a motion that could pass as a salute (which Hades isn’t sure is supposed to be respectful or in jest), then turns and rushes toward the tunnel to the Overworld. Hades stares at the invitation in his hands, and sighs. The Fates sing a soft melody in the back of his mind, too quietly for him to make out exactly what it is.

Over the next week, he debates whether or not he should attend. There is no sun in his realm, and the days bleed into each other as he deliberates. He may be a king, but the world does not stop turning (and the Underworld with it) even if he wants a night off. There will always be work that needs to be done. 

And yet. 

She might be there. 

Hades has still not completely made up his mind as he loiters outside Zeus’ manor, watching Apollo sing softly to a woman he vaguely recognizes as Calliope in the garden nearby. He’s half decided to turn around and escape another of his brother’s thinly-veiled attempts to brag about his power. At least the Erinyes don’t bother with pompous shows of wealth and arrogance. 

“Hades!” A voice that he hasn’t heard in years calls, and he turns. The Earth-shaker steps off his chariot and the white horses turn and trot away, no doubt to lead themselves back to the Ocean until they are summoned again. 

“Poseidon,” He says, and shakes his brother’s hand stiffly. Hades realizes that he cannot slip away quietly, now that he has been seen. 

“I’m surprised to see you here, brother,” Poseidon says. “What brings you out of your cave?” 

“It’s hardly a  _ cave _ ,” Hades says coolly, and Poseidon laughs and saunters through the gate. Hades follows and slips in behind his younger brother. 

The courtyard is lit with oil lamps, and tables are laden with wine and ambrosia border the room. Hades accepts a glass of wine from  Ganymede , and surveys the room — he isn’t looking for  _ her _ , he tells himself. 

Zeus is standing in a corner, visibly somewhat drunk and surrounded by a gaggle of nymphs (making a fool of himself, Hades thinks privately). Poseidon has struck up a conversation with several oreads, but at least he isn’t making it too obvious that he’s seducing any of them. 

Hades makes his way to the darkest part of the courtyard, and downs half of his drink at once. He expects he’ll need a significant amount of alcohol to deal with his family for the evening. Zeus’ hand on one of the nymph’s back slips a little lower, and Hades hears a scoff from his left.

“You’d think he’d still have a little dignity,” Hera says bitterly, cradling a glass of something that Hades suspects is stronger than wine. “At least before he would go down to the mortal realm to meet them. Now he’s just flaunting it in  _ public _ .”

Hades feels a surge of pity for Hera. His sister hasn’t always been the kindest, but she certainly doesn’t deserve to be disgraced in her own home. 

“I’m sorry, Hera,” He says carefully. He doesn’t want to be dragged into their marital dispute. Hera shrugs.

“At least he can’t pry this away from me,” She says, motioning to the elaborate stephane crown perched atop her head. With that, she downs the last of her liquor and straightens her posture as she once again adopts the aura of regal confidence. 

Hades watches as she moves back into the crowd, greeting guests politely and giving Zeus’ corner a wide berth. He wonders if Hecate will show up tonight — he doesn’t know if she’s even been invited, but a lack of invitation hasn’t stopped her in the past. If she comes, perhaps he won’t spend the entire evening alone.

A peal of laughter rings out from somewhere near him, and Hades freezes, his glass halfway to his mouth. He turns, and Persephone is no more than ten feet away, her back to him, talking animatedly with Hermes, Artemis, and several  Anthousai . 

She’s still wearing her mother’s colors, but she’s traded her usual casual chiton for a more elegant green gown. Her hair is down, as is the custom for unmarried women, but she’s pinned several flowers into her curls; and the vibrant orange of the petals makes her stand out among the crowd. Something twists in his chest when he sees that she’s still wearing his armlet, the metal shining in the light of the oil lamps. 

He wants to go to her, to hear her melodic voice and bubbly laugh, but he doesn’t particularly feel like dealing with his other niece and nephew. Demeter is also no doubt somewhere close by, monitoring her daughter’s company closely, and Hades doesn’t want to start a needless fight with his sister. 

So he stays in the shadows and tries not to stare at Persephone. She keeps her back to him, focused on whatever she is talking about with her half-siblings. After a few minutes, he decides that he is being ridiculous, and moves across the yard to join Ares and Athena in some pointless conversation about battle strategies. Eventually one of the muses starts singing, and some of Zeus’ guests pair off and begin to dance. Hades forces himself to think about the best metal composition of shields, because his mind keeps wandering towards a music-filled evening in Argos. 

Some time later, when he has gotten incredibly bored of discussing the finer points of sword-wielding technique, he politely excuses himself and walks toward a table to get some ambrosia. 

“Hermes said you might be here, but I didn’t believe it ‘til now,” Persephone says from behind him (he can recognize her voice instantly now, after turning their past conversations over and over in his mind for weeks). He turns to face her, and that warm feeling that he cannot name surges up again in his chest when she smiles at him. 

“I didn’t think I was coming until a few hours ago,” He admits. 

“What changed your mind?” She asks, cocking her head and raising her eyebrows playfully in a way that makes him think that she already knows the answer.  _ Her. _ He tries to be nonchalant despite the blush he can feel on his cheeks.

“Had nothing else to do,” He says after a moment, and she laughs. Hades drinks the rest of his wine in an attempt to calm the nerves that she is somehow able to inflict upon him. She stares at him for a moment, something flickering behind her eyes that he can’t quite decipher. 

She must have been dancing, because the kohl that lines her eyes is slightly smudged, and one of the flowers is askew in her hair. He doesn’t doubt that some of his relatives who pride themselves on their infallible neatness, like Hera or Aphrodite, would scoff at such unkemptness; but he can’t help but think that it adds to her beauty. 

He wants to kiss her. 

It would be easy to step forward and bridge the gap between them, but he cannot, for so many reasons. They are surrounded by their family, and he doesn’t particularly want to create a scandal for both of their sakes. She is too young, and he has nothing to offer her that she would want. What use would a goddess of life have for a kingdom of the dead?

So instead he busies himself with turning to get another glass of wine from Ganymede. Persephone follows him. As she reaches out to accept a beverage, a nymph appears at her elbow.

“Miss Kore, your mother would like to speak to you,” The girl says, and Persephone sighs.

“Thank you, Automate, but please kindly remind my mother that I ain’t got any duties tonight,” She says, and takes a swig of her drink. “I’m free to spend my time as I please.” 

The nymph — Automate — looks as though she wants to say something more, but after a moment she nods, and disappears back into the midst of the party. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to your mother?” Hades asks. Regardless of his feelings, he doesn’t want to drive conflict between his sister and her daughter. Persephone laughs dryly.

“I’m not a child,” She says. “I don’t need to update her every hour on what I’m doing.” 

He nods, although he can’t quite see what Persephone finds so off-putting about her mother’s attention. Demeter is somewhat overprotective, but at least her affection for her daughter is clear. He thinks she is overcompensating for the lack of care they received in their father’s stomach. 

“Let’s go outside,” Persephone says suddenly, and Hades raises his eyebrows. Without waiting for an answer, she pushes open the gate to the courtyard and steps into the dimly-lit garden (he follows, as she no doubt knew he would).

Selene’s chariot is high above them, its pale light illuminating the grounds of Zeus’ manor. Apollo and Calliope are no longer outside, no doubt having retired to somewhere more private long ago. 

After a few paces, Persephone falls back so they are walking side-by-side, and Hades makes sure to maintain a respectable amount of space between them. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” She says, and for a second he thinks that she’s angry with him for his absence in the Overworld before he registers that her tone is not accusatory. 

“I have many duties to see to in my kingdom,” He says, and Persephone deflates slightly at his words. He berates himself for being so cold. “Although I am sorry I haven’t seen you in so long.”

She smiles softly and meets his gaze.

“I’m glad you’re here now,” She says.

“So am I,” He agrees quietly. 

They walk in silence for a bit, and wander deeper into the woods that border Zeus’ estate. Trees stretch into the sky, and Hades can barely see the orange glow of the lamps through the thick vegetation surrounding them. Unless he is very much mistaken, the plants seem to grow a little lusher as Persephone passes by.

They strike up a conversation about their mutual dislike for the stifling nature of Olympus, and Persephone expresses her desire to explore and meet people outside of their family. In return, Hades shares the stories of the many successful adventurers and explorers that inhabit his kingdom.

After a while, he looks up and realizes that Selene’s chariot has moved dramatically in the sky — they have been in the forest for hours. 

“We should rejoin the others,” He says, despite the fact that he would very much like to stay out here with her all night. She nods, although she doesn’t look particularly happy about it.

As they start to walk again, Persephone hesitates, and Hades stops. 

“Will you visit more often?” She asks, and his heart sinks. He would like to, more than anything. He would spend every day with her if he could. But if any of their family grew suspicious, her reputation would be ruined. For a young minor goddess in their society, reputation is everything. And suspicions are insidious.

Never mind the fact that Zeus would not approve, because Demeter would not approve and tell him to forbid it. And since the beginning, Zeus’ word has always been law.

No matter how much he wants to, he will not be able to visit as often as he’d like.

“I will,” He says instead, because he has quickly learned that he is incapable of refusing her, and accepts his fate. He is damned.

But his worries do not seem as pressing as usual when she grins at him. One of the orange flowers pinned in her hair is about to fall out, and before he can stop himself he steps closer to her and pulls it away from the curl it had been barely clinging to, and tucks it behind her ear instead, so it will stay. She is staring at him curiously. 

Once he realizes what he’s done, he feels himself blush with embarrassment at having made such a careless blunder and drops his hand away from her face. Hades tries to step backward, but Persephone moves faster and grasps his hand in her own.

Her thumb traces his knuckles, and he cannot help but meet her gaze. Her wide eyes are captivating, and he thinks he could get lost for eons in them. In the dim light of the moon, she is more stunning than even Aphrodite, although he wouldn’t voice that thought anywhere near the goddess of beauty.

They are only inches apart, and he sees her gaze drop to his lips before flitting back up to meet his. He cannot think, but in the back of his mind, he registers that she is moving closer. His eyes close, and he tilts his head down slightly, and he can feel her nervous breath on his face and-

There is a rustling noise in the woods near them, of something far too large to be any of the animals that reside in the forest, and Persphone jumps away from him. His hand is suddenly very cold from the absence of her warmth.

A few seconds later, Demeter emerges from behind a nearby bush, and Hades freezes. After the War, he is not scared of many things, but the wrath of his sister is something he would rather do without. He prays (to whom, he does not know) that she had not witnessed what had just taken place if more for Persephone’s sake than his.

“There you are, Kore,” Demeter says, and purses her lips in disapproval as she surveys Hades. “I’ve been looking for you for a while.”

“Hades Agelastus,” She greets him coldly. He grimaces at the slight insult.

“Demeter,” He says, and she nods before fixing her gaze on her daughter.

“Kore, it’s time to go home,” She says.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Ma, but-” Persephone starts, but Demeter cuts her off.

“It’s time to go,” She turns and begins to walk away. Persephone throws an apologetic look towards him, before following her mother.

And Hades is left alone in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mythology Notes:
> 
> Phlegethon - One of the five rivers of the Underworld, which runs between Tartarus and the fields of Asphodel.
> 
> Hera and Amphitrite - The wives of Zeus and Poseidon, respectively. 
> 
> Moros - The personification of impending doom, and the son of Nyx. 
> 
> Calliope: One of the nine muses, specifically the muse of epic poetry. Also, the mother of Orpheus.
> 
> Ancient Greek architecture - Many houses had a central courtyard, surrounded by the house and a low wall with a gate. Most Ancient Greek social events were held in the andron, but that was a dining room for men (and obviously I need women to also attend this party), so I’ve put it in the courtyard. 
> 
> Ganymede - The cupbearer of the Olympains.
> 
> Oreads - Mountain nymphs
> 
> Anthousai - Flower nymphs
> 
> Automate - The nymph of a spring in Argos. 
> 
> Selene - A Titan goddess, and the goddess of the moon. 
> 
> Hades Agelastus - An epithet of Hades that refers to his melancholy countenance, so it could be taken as an insult.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on mythological elements:
> 
> Hades - god and king of the Underworld, and brother to Zeus, Hera, and Demeter
> 
> Ευσπλαχνία - mercy/compassion in Greek
> 
> River Styx - The river that separates the land of the living from the Underworld.
> 
> Charon - The ferryman of the Underworld, who transports newly-arrived souls across the River Styx in his boat. And much much later, the conductor of Hadestown’s train.
> 
> Narcissus flowers - Latin name for daffodils! a yellow or white flower, which can represent hope, new beginnings, and sometimes loneliness. In Greek mythology, it is often referred to as a flower that led Persephone into a trap Hades had set so he could abduct her. 
> 
> Chiton - A tunic-like garment worn by both men and women in Ancient Greece
> 
> Persephone/Kore - goddess of spring and vegetation
> 
> Demeter - Greek goddess of the harvest and agriculture, and the mother of Persephone. She is also a younger sister of Hades.
> 
> Zeus - the King of the gods, and god of the sky/lightning. He is the husband of Hera, brother of Hades, and father of Persephone.
> 
> Hera - wife of Zeus, and the goddess of marriage and birth. She is the mother of Ares (and many others)
> 
> Ares - god of war, and son of Zeus and Hera
> 
> Dionysus - greek god of wine, pleasure, and festivity. Son of Zeus and Semele (a mortal).
> 
> Hecate/Hekate - goddess of witchcraft and magic. In some myths, she is the daughter of Asteria and Perses (which would make her grandparents Titans, so she is kind of a cousin to Hades -- idk this family tree is wack)
> 
> Artemis - goddess of hunting, nature, and the moon (along with Hecate and the Titan Selene). Daughter of Zeus and Leto (a mortal). 
> 
> Athena - goddess of wisdom, courage, and law and justice. Daughter of Zeus and Metis (a Titan)
> 
> Hades’ father - Kronos/Cronus, the king of the Titans and the god of time. When he learned that he was destined to be overthrown by his children, he ate them. Eventually the Olympians, led by Zeus, did indeed overthrow their father in a war against the Titans. Cronus was then locked in Tartarus in the Underworld along with the other Titans who fought against Zeus’ army. 
> 
> Tartarus - Place where particularly bad people are tortured after death. It is also where the generation before the Olympians (the Titans) are imprisoned, with Hades as their jailor.


End file.
